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COPVRIGHT DEPOSm 



SCATTERED MISTS 



MAUD M. BROWNE 







^/jmetveUTA 



BOSTON 

THE GORHAM PRESS 

MCMXVni 



Copyright, 1918, by Maud M. Browne 



All Rights Reserved 






MADE IN THE UNITED STATES OP AMERICA 



The Gorham Prbss, Boston, U. S. A. 

NOV 18 i'd!8 






To 

MY MOTHER 

And to the Memory of 

MY FATHER 

This little book is dedicated 



CONTENTS 

Page 

To America 9 

To Every American lO 

"To Those Who Say I Am A Failure" 12 

"Fortissimi Sunt Belgae" 13 

A Garden 15 

Spring 16 

Fall 17 

The Ocean's Sway 18 

Dawn 20 

Spring 21 

Greeting to Winter 22 

Blow, Winds 23 

The Mountains of Colorado 24 

Morning in June 26 

The Mountains 28 

March 29 

Spring Winds 30 

Beauty 31 

Sunset 32 

Spring is Calling 33 

Misunderstanding 34 

A Dream 35 

Ruth 36 

Spring Music 37 

The Friend 38 

A Prayer 39 

Lullaby 40 

The Price 41 

5 



Contents 



PAGE 

Tonight 42 

Athena 43 

An Old Man's Thoughts 44 

Illusion 46 

Felicia 48 

Understanding 49 

Song and Picture 50 

My Little Sister 51 

The Mayflower Baby 53 

Artist's Goal 54 

A Forest Lullaby 55 

To Mary 56 

Snow-Shoeing in February 57 

In Memory of a Singer 58 

Adventure 59 

"Divine Fire" 61 

A Dream 62 

Response 63 

Dear Lad 64 

Comradeship 65 

Lullaby 66 

The Prayer of a Middle Aged Leader 67 

Today — At Your House 69 

Dante 70 

A Lament for the Young Earl of Essex 71 



SCATTERED MISTS 



Scattered Mists 



TO AMERICA 

Oh Spirit of America, 

Thou art not dead, 

And we who are about to Live salute you ! 

Careless sons of Pilgrims old, 

Greedy sons of Pilgrims new. 

Our hearts a little purged of self, 

Aflame with love for thee, untold, 

Unplumbed, unguessed in depth, 

Salute you ! 

Oh Spirit of Liberty, 
Whom now we know 
As spirit, pervade our souls, inspire us 
With stern desire to train the Will, 
To Prove thy light is burning on 
And that we will not let it die. 
Oh steady us that we prepare 
Aright for that "New birth 
Of Freedom." 

Democracy ! 

Thou word of import. 

Embodiment of man's belief in man, 

Our ears accustomed to thy name 

Were dulled, but now, unstopped, they hear. 

Our eyes long blinded by externals 

Behold again thy glorious presence. 

We Will to prove thy meaning. 

Lead us on! 

9 



Scattered Mists 



TO EVERY AMERICAN 

Search your heart, seek your closet 

Oh you American! 

Face the facts, ask yourself 

With Sternness tonight 

"How am I living? What am I Being 

Each day of life? 

Am I accepting, receiving only. 

Eating, and drinking, and clothing myself, 

Enjoying, merely, material things?" 

Oh Smug and Complacent 

Repent ye ! Repent ! 

Lay not the blame for this wholly on others, 
Nor put Today's duty nor that of Tomorrow 
On some other one's shoulders. 
Stifle not conscience with platitudinous sentiments 
Patriotic and National however they sound. 
"Rend your hearts, not your garments!" 

Think to some purpose, use all your brain power. 

Sweat Blood if need be! 

Dream not, sentimental, thinking that magic 

Can save our republic. 

Neither foam at the mouth at Inaction in Others. 

"Justice and Liberty." 
What do they mean to you? 
And "Consent of the Governed"? 
The Builders who worked for them. Lived for them, 
10 



Scattered Mists 



Put brain, heart and soul into labor, 

Sacrificed the day's comfort, sleep in the night time, 

Were vigilant, active ! 

Rise from your apathy! 

Get to work and stop talking. 

Put your soul and your mind 

And your body to testing! 

Cease fault-finding with others. 

Do your part without smallness. 

Use your Head ; put your Mind into Service! 



II 



Scattered Mists 



•TO THOSE WHO SAY I AM A FAILURE" 

(Democracy Speaks to Such Americans) 
Confess! Ye greedy and ungrateful children 
Who have taken all I had to give 
Confess ! I have not failed You ! 
'Tis Ye have sucked Me dry! 
Ye took, and took, and gave me nothing back. 
I falter, and ye cry against me! 
Another effort ! And if this fail to rouse ye 
I die, and ye die with me. 
But yours will be a death of Soul, 
While I shall rise again 
In some far distant land 
Among an alien people. 
For always have I lived, and ever 
Shall the life of me go on 
Within the hearts of lofty minded men. 

Throw ofF the garments of your apathy 

And cleanse your hearts! Consider! 

Prepare to give with joy the things 

I need, to Live and Grow forever. 

I want your Brain, your greatest power 

Of connected Thinking! I want your Heart, 

Free and Single in my Service. I need 

Your Will to Do, but more than that 

Your Will to Be, from day to day. 

From week to week, from year to year. 

My Fellow Workmen ! 

Look deep into your souls and raise 
To light the Seed I planted there! 

12 



Scattered Mists 



"FORTISSIMI SUNT BELGAE" 

(In the early dajs of the Great War, King Albert of 
Belgium, in a proclamation to his people drew 
their attention to the fact that Julius Caeser had 
described their ancestors as the "bravest of all.") 

Long, long ago, in a quiet study-hall 

Above a lovely Doric-pillared porch, 

Where naught was heard except the sweet spring 

winds, 
That came so softly through the old school door 
To tease the wandering fancy of our youth 
With dreams, such as the young forever dream. 
Long, long ago, when peace dwelt in our land, 
And we who read the "Commentaries" saw 
Those marching hosts of Belgians, Teutons, Gauls, 
As beings of an age remote in time and thought 
And feeling from our own, — long, long ago, 
We learned "Fortissimi sunt Belgae!" 

That old white building on the hill has passed 
Away, but memories of that moving phrase 
Remain, to stir our hearts in this dark time. 
We never thought that in the years to come 
We'd weep for thee, oh tragic Belgian land, 
Despoiled and rudely torn ! We never dreamed 
Your manly king would use great Caesar's words 
To fix his agitated people's thoughts 
Upon the one thing needful. Well it was 
That Caeser said "Fortissimi sunt Belgae!" 
13 



Scattered Mists 



For better 'tis to Die than to submit ! 
Better to strike one blow for freedom now 
Than live long lives of ease, with plenty fed! 
Then hail to You of whom we still can say 
With thankful pride, "Fortissimi sunt Belgae!' 



14 



Scattered Mists 



A GARDEN 

No Persian garden have I ever seen, 

Nor heard the bulbul's song, so rich and rare, 

But how can any roses be more fair, 

More deeply red, more sweet, than these that lean 

And strew with velvet petals, all the green 

Soft turf ? That drift on pools, when summer air 

Doth take its fill of fragrance, where 

It floats caressing roses, tho unseen. 

And how can any bulbul sing more sweet 
Than this my western bird of black and gold ? 
His rich full notes stir all the heart can hold 
Of music's sweet suggestions, thots as fleet, 
And feelings evanescent. Leave me here! 
Old Omar could not find a place more dear. 



15 



Scattered Mists 



SPRING 

That busy maid, Swift-Fingered Spring 

Is knitting lace of green on every bough. 

The noisy red-winged black-birds swing 

On meadow grasses now. 

A quiet butterfly's a-wing 

Where leafless cherry trees 

Their spicy odors fling 

To any lazy breeze, 

And orioles begin to sing 

In praise of thee, Swift-Fingered Spring. 



i6 



Scattered Mists 



FALL 

In the whirl of leaves by autumn's breath blown, 

When streams are chill, 
And the faint farewell of song-birds south flown 

O'er wind-swept hill. 
In the crow's slow call, 
And the nuts' loud fall, 
And the waiting gray that hangs over us all — 
We have heard thy voice, oh Frosty Fall! 



17 



Scattered Mists 



THE OCEAN'S SWAY 

Oh Persian garden of roses, and birds and dreams, 
Thy promised gift seemed one with heart's desire, 
But when the western mountains' sunset fire 
And midnight moon of beauty, called me higher. 
And bade me see the soul of things, aspire 
To joys undreamed, to heights of thought unsealed, 
I wandered long with them, nor ever failed 
To find the calm of heaven-healing streams. 

Oh glorious in sun, in moon, in shade, 

Are western mountains — purple and rose and gold. 

I thot the round earth surely could not hold 

Within its belt of seas, or Heaven's wide fold, 

A rival beauty — that the secret told 

In midnight silence on the Great Divide 

Encompassed all. The universal tide 

Of Being held me close, and long I stayed ! 

And yet tonight I'm very far away. 
The garden gifts were fair as fair could be. 
The mountain calm a revelation unto me; — 
But then I did not know the wondrous Sea! 
So grand, alluring, changeless, free, 
Its loveliness to many songs compels, 
Tho none the half its glory ever tells. 
That's why today, I own the ocean's sway! 



i8 



Scattered Mists 



How oft we meet and pass so lightly by the way 
Those whom we surname "Strange," and then some 

day 
By glance, or word, or touch, the barriers fall 
And with a shock the man*s true self we see 
So close beside. Then very blest are we 
If to acknowledge him, with glad surprise 
Our hearts and lips respond — the while our eyes 
With tears are wet, to think what we have made 
Of life. The price Convention asked we've paid, 
Forgetting that the sweetest blessings fall 
When not too late we hear the Stranger's call. 



Is there anything more sweet 

Than winds of May? 

They bring the odors fleet 

Of woodland flowers, 

Of fragrant showers 

From orchard bowers. 

Of snowy petals dancing gay, 

Where orioles do sing and sway, 

Sway and sing to winds of May! 



19 



Scattered Mists 



DAWN 

Oh Beautiful Dawn, I feel you approaching, 

Your first sweet morning gale 

Blows softly in my face. 

The flower-laden apple boughs 

So drooping, fragrance laden, 

Lift a little, sway a little, in response. 

Then the grass takes up the movement 

With a whisper — petal-showers fall, 

And the leaves soon rustle softly, 

While the sky blooms rose and saffron, 

And a bird sings songs to Dawn. 



20 



Scattered Mists 



SPRING 

Again, again, the spring returns again ! 

There is a distant roaring in the north. 

And after many a storm of wind and rain, 

From chains of ice, imprisoned streams burst forth! 

Oh Springing Force, thou dost revivify 
Our hearts, so long oppressed with heavy pain. 
And into hopes that bruised and withered lie 
Thou pourest balm of soft and tearlike rain. 



I'm glad, my dear, to take you by the hand, 

To walk with you in fields we love. 

I think we understand 

Each other. Do we need to prove 

What Cometh softly as the Spring 

When life again hath stirred 

And joy is everywhere a-wing 

And song's in every bird ? 



ai 



Scattered Mists 



GREETING TO WINTER 

Tho' chill the wind, and roughly swift 
His rude embrace of every bending form, 
In naked beauty, careless of the storm, 
The elms, their slender arms uplift. 

Tho' dull and cold our winding brook 
And gray the day, and barren all the hills, 
I know that winter, summer's love fulfills, 
And watch for earth's reflective look. 



Oh all my heart 

Sing thou a song of joy! 

Such as doth come 

When after pain 

Of soul and body 

Health renews again 

The broken spirit. 

When after rain 

Of bitter tears and inward strife 

Celestial Peace descends 

Upon the broken Life! 



22 



Scattered Mists 



BLOW, WINDS! 

Swell out the sails of the gay little ships, 
Whiten the wavelets' green rolling tips, 
Spread smooth the path where the sea-gull dips. 
And blow, winds, blow! 

Bend o'er the marge each shore-growing flower, 
Freshen them well with a rainbow shower, 
Then sing a song from the pines' high tower 
And blow, winds, blow! 

Roughen the ripples of the stream's wide expanse, 
Lead the scudding clouds in a wild merry dance, 
With a sparkling beauty all this day enhance, 
And blow, winds, blow! 

Swift before your strength speed the carolling bird. 
Fill with the sweetness of your breath the startled 

herd, 
Bathe with your vigor all my being, song-stirred, 
And blow, winds, blow ! 

Speak forth a message from that sky-hung tower, 
Tell me the secret of your strong free power, 
Give me the forceful Word for one compelling hour ! 
Then blow, winds, blow! 



23 



Scattered Mists 



THE MOUNTAINS OF COLORADO 

The Plain recedes. With eager hearts 
We climb the giant Palisade. 
Thru keener air we hasten on 
Past rushing creeks of sun-washed brown, 
Whose banks are now one field of blue, 
Where columbines waist-high do grow 
Not far away from banks of snow, 
And painted-cups their scarlet flaunt 
In the very face of the cold, their taunt, 
So fiery-hearted, grow they here! 

And now the trees are few and small, 

A stinging wind comes with the creek 

As from its highest gate it pours. 

The mountain-clover's pinkish bloom 

Alone grows here. And near 

So near, despite midsummer's warmth. 

Are banks, hard, compact banks of snow! 

This is the very height of heights I 
Back-bone of this great western world! 
Where streams divide, where whirlwinds ride 
In freedom, clouds do make their home 
And rolling thund'rously do paint 
These mountain vales with shadows blue, 
Not of one blue, but many tints 
With not a hint of red to warm 
Their cold pure color. 



24 



Scattered Mists 



Storm clouds pass, 

And glory trails along the peaks 

As toward his western home, the sun 

Departs, with royal cavalcade. 

The heart then aches with thankfulness 

For gift of sight to see this End 

Of Day upon the Ridge of Earth, 

Where Beauty in a thousand shapes 

And colors, rich, majestic, proud, 

Sails onward in translucent seas. 

The sun has gone, his train passed on. 

And night has come upon the heights. 

The winds of Heaven more coldly sweep 

A-down the canyon. Say what song 

Is that they sing as they rush along? 

When the moon comes up they drop to a sigh, 

And so softly sing as they go by, 

That it seems to one with the listening ear 

The whirling of worlds he can almost hear, 

And the Heart of the Universe beats near. 



25 



Scattered Mists 



MORNING IN JUNE 

'Tis morn ! 

The darkness of the night has fled 

Before the sun! 

Each narrow pointed grass 

Is edged with drops of dew. 

Each dandelion opens its fluffy golden ball, 

And softly floating earthward 

The apple petals fall! 

Thou glorious sun of morn, 

Whose kiss absorbs each grass-tip's dew, 

Whose light makes all these hills 

Glow beauteously, 

Behold a devotee! 

Under blossom-weighted trees 

Bright orioles flash to and fro 

And whistle clear. 

The bobolinks scold as they fly. 

While quiet birds of yellow-green 

Earthward help the blossoms sweet, 

With slow and careless motion 

Like snow-flakes of an early winter storm. 

See, Friendly Sun, 

How old New England hills and vales, 

All glacier-scarred, 

Respond to universal warmth ! 



26 



Scattered Mists 



Such delicacy of loveliness 

In hue and line, 

Odor and sound, 

Cannot be found elsewhere 

In all thy wanderings. 

Our natures too, so bruised 

With struggling long against the rock, 

Respond to thee, oh Sun, 

And to thy beauty -clothed fields! 

Oh clothe us with thy loveliness 

And cover all our scars! 



37 



Scattered Mists 



THE MOUNTAINS 

'Tis midnight now upon the Great Divide, 
The moon's white light bathes all this wondrous place 
Till Universe seems Spirit — full of grace 
The softened lines of jagged peaks. Abide 
With us, oh radiant Moon, and pour thy tide 
Of glory on each seeking upturned face. 
As signs of birth-throes thou dost here erase 
From off the scarred and wounded mountain side. 

Such silence here as none would ever dream. 
The fresh cool winds, tho felt, do move so still 
That not a memory of sound doth fill 
The thot. Invisible, the noiseless stream 
Is pouring in each heart its healing balm 
And on the soul descends Olympian calm. 



Scattered Mists 



MARCH 

Fresh and new, 

A.nd bathed with rain, and swept by Winds of 

March, 
Are all the fields to-day. This old world laughs 
For joy at spring's return. The blue 
Of circled hills, soft-veiled by distance, 
Leads us on to dreams of beauty. Hail, 
Oh lovely color of hills and sky and lake ! 
Within your blue, girt by it, and below it, 
Come sudden bursts and puffs of green and yellow. 
Maples wear their red and silver, elms their lace. 
Oh who can paint the movement of this world? 
Today the winds of heaven are rushing on 
Through space, to hymns of gladness. What a race 
For life all nature makes! 



a9 



Scattered Mists 



SPRING WINDS 

O Singing Lady, make for me 
A song of wind and river, 
When, softly flowing toward the sea, 
They make the shore-grass quiver. 

When every green thing bendeth low 
Before the zephyr's playing. 
And Guinevere doth often go 
With Lancelot, a-Maying. 

When skies are blue, and blue the sea. 
And dear brown birds are singing. 
When winds of spring are floating free 
Their woodland odors bringing! 

Then Singing Lady, make for me 
A song of May-time gladness, 
And I will gayly follow thee 
Forgetting winter-sadness. 



30 



Scattered Mists 



BEAUTY 

O Living Presence, Infinite, enfold me! 
With thy soft and thrilling stillness, 
With thy harmony of woodland sounds, 
And flower bloom and starry songs, 

fill my being! 

1 reach to thee, thou moving power, 
Thou calm, yet never-resting one; 
My mind, my soul, my heart 

Cry out to thee. For I am young 
And thou dost speak to me of life 
And Joy, and hidden mystic things. 



31 



Scattered Mists 



SUNSET 

Black elms lean to the river, 
And the willows along the shore 
Bend to the sun-touched water, 
That singeth a song, evermore. 

Rose-petal cloudlets are flying 
Through a green, translucent sea. 
Where the Venus-star is vying 
With sun, and sky, and tree. 

Swiftly the night-wind is bringing 
A lavender veil for them all. 
And the river moves on singing 
Its answer to ocean's call. 

Up from the eastern sky-line 
Comes swinging a lantern-moon, 
Bringing a gorgeous mid-summer sign 
That mysteries of night follow soon. 



32 



Scattered Mists 



SPRING IS CALLING 

The Spring is calling! Virgin-free 
She dances down the hill, 
Then tiptoes soft beside me 
In gown of daffodil. 

Her frilly sleeve comes nearer, 
Her hand is in my hair, 
Her voice is growing clearer. 
Upon the still sweet air. 

Soft winds are blowing sweetly 
Across her crocus lawns. 
Thin clouds are moving fleetly 
From out her topaz dawns. 

With tightened breath I answer 
With heart a-stop I hear 
To what this wild gay dancer 
Is whispering in my ear. 



33 



Scattered Mists 



MISUNDERSTANDING 

In the white fields, watching the sun's pale glow, 
I stand alone and breathe the frost-edged air. 
"Fresh morning gales, that hasten wheresoe'er 
The sun doth roam, and ever onward flow, 
To the Great West a message straightway blow 
To one I love ! Oh wild sweet winds, take care 
Of these my words, and very swiftly go 
With child-affection, girlhood's tender love. 
To her whose woman-face I plainly see 
Since tears of pain make keen the memory. 
And more than these I would that ye could prove- 

' Misunderstood, not understanding thee, 
I love, and always shall, it scemeth me!' " 



34 



Scattered Mists 



A DREAM 

It seemed we two sat on a height, 

A crag that overhung a deep ravine. 

Far off the plain with color glowed, 

An opalescent stretch of earth, 

Sea-like in coloring and size. 

Behind and far upon each side, 

The snow-crowned western mountains rose. 

Height upon height, a ridge of rocks. 

But on that bare and rocky ridge. 

As on the eastern plain afar, 

The morning sun so softly played 

With living tint and shifting breeze 

We could but feel that we were near 

The heart of things! 

No word we spoke 
But sat and gazed for long — and then 
With one accord we looked upon 
Each other, needing not the sound 
Of voice nor touch of hand, for we 
Were One in spirit. Naught remained 
In this clear light, at this great height, 
Of any fault — and what we saw 
Before our eyes was very good ! 



35 



Scattered Mists 



RUTH 

Sweet as the breath of the valley, 
Keen as the wind on the hill, 
Free as the air of the plain-land 
Where the breezes wander at will, 

Pure as the orchard petals 

That drift with the sweet May breeze, 

Gay as the dancing sunlight 

That gladdens the orchard trees. 

Clear as the placid lakelet 
That lies in its gold-green vale, 
Fearless and truthful and joyous 
As the ship unfurling its sail 

To go on a long, long journey 

I"ar over the wondrous sea, 

With not much thought of "What has been" 

But ever of "What will be." 



36 



Scattered Mists 



SPRING MUSIC 

Dear Heart, let us forget 
The world and all its creeds, 
All its false hopes and fancied needs, 
And wander where the spirit leads 
Thru forest path to flowery meads 
Of joj'. Let us forget! 

Sweet Spring doth beckon us 

To worship at the shrine 

Where God himself hath set the sign 

And given his voice to grove of pine 

And singing brook. To its confine 

Sweet Spring, O welcome us ! 

Then listen to her music, 

A low-toned melody 

Of gay song-bird and wind-blown tree, 

With care-free voice of the deep blue sea, 

A lovely, swaying harmony, 

O listen to her music! 



37 



Scattered Mists 



THE FRIEND 

She dwells upon a height, 

A mountain, cloud-capped, beautiful: — 

With softest opalescent colors crowned 

At morning tide: 

With pure and dazzling white 

At evening. 

Because her home is high, 

Because she dwells with stars and many-colored 

clouds, 
Hath learned much of God, of light and love. 
She Cometh to the valley oft 
And begs us to go with her. 
To live with her, forever and forever. 

O friend so strong and true, 
More clear our light, 
Our hope more high, 
Our love more deep. 
Because of you ! 



38 



Scattered Mists 



A PRAYER 

Creator of Earth, and Sky, and Sea, 
God of the clouds that float so free, 
Maker of every wind-blown tree, 
Lover of beautiful harmony. 
Grant the boon I ask of thee ! 

Heart of the world, O hear my prayer, 
Give this dear girl thy loving care. 
Open her eyes to thy beauty so fair. 
Open her ears to thy songs so rare, 
Comfort her, strengthen her, folded there. 

Giver of Joy, thy sunshine send, 
Giver of Peace, thy calm strength lend, 
Then with Truth let these two blend, 
Into gracious womanhood, brave to the end. 
O grant this blessing to my sweet friend ! 



39 



Scattered Mists 



LULLABY 

My little child, my soft-eyed dove, 
The moon shines pale on silver streams. 
Come, let us sail to the Isle of Love, 
Where lies the land of golden dreams. 

Oh sweet west wind, now lightly blow 
Our pink-sailed ship to sunset caves; 
And rivers sing, as on you flow 
To sleep in green old ocean's waves. 

My baby dear, thy mother's arm 
Hath curves as soft as feathers be 
To birdies young — then fear no harm 
For safe we glide to the western sea. 

Its shores are lined with crimson shells 
Which tell in strange melodious tone, 
Like far-olif peal of wind-swung bells, 
The wonders of the world they've known. 

An island there has valleys green. 
Where poppies dance to a sleepy air, 
And drowsy-eyed their dreaming queen 
Enfolds you in her heavy-sweet hair. 

Then here's a kiss on eyes and brow, 
A soft "good-night" by silver streams. 
For I must back to the Land of Now, 
While you float down to the Isle of Dreams. 
40 



Scattered Mists 



THE PRICE 

I stood at morn upon a sun-kissed hill 
And reached for heaven with my arms flung wide. 
My strength seemed boundless ; eagerly I cried — 
"In me, O Life, your Dream of Joy, fulfill." 

I listened breathless on that sun-kissed hill 

To singing winds ; and in their music sweet 

An answer came, whose harp-toned, throbbing beat 

Held my wild heart. In dreams I hear it still! 

answering winds from surging, sunlit, sea, 

1 lift my face again to 3^our soft caress; 
Once more I hear your song of Joy — Ah yes, 
Us Tragic undertone still comes to me! 



41 



Scattered Mists 



TONIGHT 

My friend, my friend, I long for you tonight, 
I'm tired of this world — the old delight 
In nature-shapes and sounds, the dawn of day, 
The song of birds north-flown to woods of May, 
The winds of space whose hymns do thrill 
My soul at other times — tonight they fill 
My heart with sense of isolation. You 
Alone could fill the void, could see the blue 
Where only saddest colors seem to show 
The hostile face of a world I do not know. 



Scattered Mists 



ATHENA 

"Indifferent and cold," so you have said, 

And yet, the day you made your judgment, took 

The obvious love and left me here alone, 

That day I held my self so still 

Because the soul within was torn with anguish. 

Jealousy, which I had thought, no part 

In me had ever held dominion, paid 

Me back for all my scorn of her, 

And I who long had waited you in faith 

And sure serenity of spirit, find 

You gone. And gone the philosophic calm. 

The poise with which I've met each shock before 

I've even longed for methods used by those 

Who love the flesh alone. No virtue is it 

That I use them not, for pride is so ingrained 

[n me, I could not if I would. 



43 



Scattered Mists 



AN OLD MAN'S THOUGHTS 

Inexorable Death — that conies to all, 

How thou hast followed me, these many years ! ' 

My mother, wife, and child, all that I loved, 

Have met thee, each in turn, and gone with thee, 

Upon their fated journey — leaving me 

To face the sad gray world alone. 

My heart 
Was hard within me then, for well I knew 
They did not wish to go and leave me here; 
But now, I thank thee, Death, and ask that thou 
Wilt come for me, and soon — so tired am I. 

A hostile world this seems to me, which once. 
Aglow with light and love, invited all 
My effort. Hostile and hard the face of man, 
Appraising, sharp, the glance of woman ; 
No place for the old is here, no work, no hope 
For him who once was young and very strong, 
Who did his part, and suffered on the way 
Without complaint. 

How helpless are the old ! 
In men's mad onward rush, material gain 
To win, they care not that the weak are crushed 
Nor that the feeble old are hopeless made. 



44 



Scattered Mists 



Good Death — release me now ! My Mother Earth 
Will sure receive me kindly. When my grief 
Was young and stern she spread her beauties out, 
And now she'll not refuse to fold me where 
My loved ones lie. 'Tis so I welcome thee 
And that long journey to thy realm unknown. 



45 



Scattered Mists 



ILLUSION 

Far, far hast thou wandered, sweet morning of May 

And dear thy returning! 

A dream, I roamed thy hyacinthine way? 

Then still I'd be dreaming! 

Blue days, without number in thy gardens, oh May ! 

Bright-hued the flowers! 

How green the lawns, where soft-limbed children 

play 
'Neath air-castle towers! 

Long time I sought thee, throughout the bright day ! 
Near fountain's white foaming; 
By meadow green, where sunbeams love to stay, 
In child-garden roaming. 

At last I saw thee ! Raised my hands to thine 
Oh Gift-Bestowing! 

There a bubble shone and still doth shine 
Colorful and glowing! 



Oh Spirit that movcth the universe. 
Thou God of the sky, the earth, the sea. 
Oh carry me back — Oh let me immerse 
My soul in the fountain of Unity! 

For the one-ness of things I long again 
For a wholeness to life, a chance to se« 
Thy truth as it is in the best of men, 
Thy love as shown iii patience with mc 
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Scattered Mists 



Oh spread again before my door 

A view of thy world — and at the end 

Grant me the blessing to see once more 

The sum of all good in the face of my friend. 



Oh dearest, dearest, come to me. Forgive 
My truant tongue, my stubborn will, my pride. 
I care not who was in the wrong — I wish 
To see thy face and feel again the calm 
And sweetness of our early friendship. Bring 
Your old self hither and today forget 
My over-sensitive ways, imaginations 
Vain. Remember only that we've been 
Good friends for long! 

I do not always understand thee, dear, 
But I do know I love thee well, 
And what is more I'm not afraid to tell 
Thee so, thou art to me so dear. 

'Tis true thou art not always just to me. 
My temper rises then in truth. 
It may be I'm not always fair to thee, 
Thine anger is as quick in sooth. 

We're both too sensitive and too high-strung 
Too independent and too free 
Of sp)eech. And yet — my love has swung 
Thy way, and thou art dear to me. 
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Scattered Mists 



FELICIA 

When daj^s were neither dark nor bright, she came 

Across my way. Then commonplaces fled 

And grayness vanished, as before the flame 

Of some bright sun, quick-bursting thru a cloud. 

The scattered mists so gloriously sped 

Revealed a dormant spirit that seemed dead 

Responding to new life! We laughed aloud 

For joy at friendship's glad surprise, and went 

Our happy way together in content. 



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UNDERSTANDING 

Into the bend of my arm she comes creeping, creep- 
ing, 

Into the curve of my neck she lays her head, sleeping. 
To my whispered, "Rest, Sweet, rest!" 
Drowsy murmurs, "Dearest, Best, 
Nobody else ever understands me, 
Why you do I cannot see, 
Only know, I love you so!" 

Into my heart love-laughter comes leaping, sweeping, 
Over this dear blessed girl who lies sleeping 
Close and warm upon my breast. 
With her murmured "Dearest, Best, 
Nobody else ever understood me, 
Why you do I never could see, 
But you know I love you so !" 



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Scattered Mists 



SONG AND PICTURE 

Light and color, glowing, flowing, 
Walk with her to their delight, 
Where the morning winds are blowing 
Round the edges of the night. 

Blue sky canopy above her, 
Blue, her beauty seeking eyes. 
Blue, the gold-green ocean water, 
When a cloud across it flies! 

Blue, the gown around her blowing, 
But pure gold her wind-tossed hair, 
Gold, the sunlight round her flowing, 
Gold, the palpitating air. 

Splashed with light upon them, in them, 
Gleam the waters of the pool, 
Where the tinted starfish sun them 
In their homes so still and cool. 

Moving radiance, ripples glowing. 
Flash across her morning face, 
As she watches waters flowing, 
As she feels the winds of space. 

Without words a song she's singing, 
There beside the ebbing sea. 
Without brush a picture flinging 
On the windy canvas free! 
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Scattered Mists 



MY LITTLE SISTER 

The wind-flower, anemone, is dancing with the 

breeze. 
All delicate and fairy-like beneath dark forest trees. 
The arbutus, so rosy-sweet, is smiling in the sun. 
And shyly up she looks at us, with joy that spring's 

begun! 

Hepaticas have opened out their furry coats of gray, 

And spread their deep-blue beauty forth, to wel- 
come in the May. 

Across a cloudless sky runs wild the joyous wind of 
spring, 

And everywhere some happy bird lifts up its voice 
to sing! 

Oh wind-flowers, and may-flowers, and birds upon 

the trees, 
I know a radiant loveliness to match with all of 

these. 
She's walking on the hill-top with the sunshine in her 

hair, 
There's nothing in this bright spring world more 

beautiful and fair! 

All glorified with laughter are those eyes of flower 

blue, 
With wonder, and with innocence, and deepest 

knowledge, too. 



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Scattered Mists 



The flush of dawn is on her face, dew-washed, like 

buds of May. 
Her wind-tossed, shining hair reflects the sunlight's 

brightest ray. 

Her sweetness and her daintiness are like the forest 
things 

When bathed with sun and wind and rain that 
storm-cleaned April brings. 

The joyous freedom of her glance is very good to see. 

Her happy laugh at all the world doth wholly glad- 
den me. 

Oh wind-flowers, and may-flowers, and birds among 

the trees, 
I know a radiant loveliness surpassing all of these. 
She's walking on the hill-top, with the sunshine in 

her hair. 
There's nothing in this bright spring world more 

beautiful and fair! 



5* 



Scattered Mists 



THE MAYFLOWER BABY 

The Mayflower baby walks in the wood, 
She tosses the brown leaves around, 
Then laughingly takes off her dainty pink hood 
And leaves it there on the ground. 

Her clean rosy dress she flings to the breeze 
And lets it go where it will. 
It settles beneath the singing pine trees 
On the sunny south side of the hill, 

The Mayflower baby looks abroad, 
Then down at her petticoats sweet, 
And off they come with a satisfied nod 
Of astonished surprise at the feat. 

When Mayflower baby's body is bare 
She lifts her face up to mine. 
1 smell the spring in her soft gold hair, 
1 see in her eyes its sign. 



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Scattered Mists 



ARTIST'S GOAL 

If I could but make a picture 
Of her lovely outward grace, 
Of her slim, free girlish figure. 
Of her searching eager face, 

I would paint her hair so golden 
With some pigment from the sun, 
When it's hazed with sparkling topaz 
Of the day that's just begun. 

Then I'd use the rosy mayflower 
For her cheeks so fresh and sweet. 
With some honey-mixed translucence 
Where her neck and shoulders meet. 

Far upon a hill I'd place her, 
Moving gayly, swiftly by, 
Like the wind-chased clouds around her 
In the clean spring-fragrant sky. 

Or I'd paint her moving slowly 
Down some sleepy, winding stream, 
Mouth all curves and sweet suggestions. 
Eyes far-following some faint dream. 

Could I ever hope to capture 
Her simplicity of soul. 
Her unconscious silent rapture, 
I would reach my artist's goal. 
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Scattered Mists 



A FOREST LULLABY 

Little one, dear one, 

Rosy-sweet and near one, 

Come to me I pray. 
Here the shadows soft are falling, 
Here the silence sweet is calling, 

Calling thee to stay. 

Little one, dear one, 

Flower-like and near one, 

Come with me I say. 
Here the vesper-thrush is singing, 
Here the pine his balsam's flinging, 

On the Nod-land Way. 

Sleep, with moonlight round thee bringing, 
Dreams of fun and play. 
Let thy sunlight thoughts go winging, 
Winging far away. 



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Scattered Mists 



TO MARY 

You rolling hills and eastward flowing river, 
You graceful elms with banners softly waving, 
You whispering grasses, covering slope and summit, 
All your beauties bring, and here enfold her. 
Enfold our Mary, for she loved you well. 

Bright sun, bringer of joy, she felt your kinship 
And caught your sweetness at the dawn time coming. 
Fresh breeze, a-wandering from old Ocean's cham- 
ber. 
Oft she gave you greeting, face uplifted ; 
Ah, who in words her loveliness could tell? 

Not long ago we walked these lanes together. 
Beneath the whitened apple boughs, we stole 
With footsteps hushed, our ears for song expectant; 
And the grosbeak's melody burst forth. 
Oh bird, rose-breasted, sing again where she doth 
dwell ! 

Across these fields we've watched the jaunty red- 
wing. 
And heard the yellow-hammer's invitation 
To go adventuring. We've flung to winds 
A brave farewell, 'gainst the bluebird's lamentation 
That winter's here again, in every nook and dell. 

Now soon the snow will cover all this hillside 
And gusty winds will drive the song-birds south, 
But ah, for these I would not be in sorrow, 
Could I but see thy winsome face again ; 
Dear girl, sweet friend and lovely memory, 
Farewell ! 

S6 



Scattered Mists 



SNOW-SHOEING IN FEBRUARY 

How the sun sets a-sparkle the snow-covered hills! 
How he smiles and smiles on the ice-bound rills 
Till they slo^\'ly turn 'neath their heavy white chains 
And send forth a message to silent plains! 

With the blue sky above and the deep snow below 
With a soft friendly wind blowing sweetly and low, 
Across open fields, among the still pines, 
We wander at will 'mong the Old Year's signs. 

For he leaves them late, the beauty to show 

Of skeleton flowers against the pure snow, 

And the naked trees, with delicate care. 

Lift their arms to the sun-warmed, food-giving air. 

The contagion of spirit descends on us all. 
And our glad voices answer with comradely call. 
These friends we have known but for one short day. 
Whom the woods called forth to congenial play. 

We have seen their eyes glow in responsive delight, 
At the beauty of morning, of on-coming night, 
And we feel, in a thankful, wondering way, 
That this is a perfectly, satisfying day! 



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Scattered Mists 



IN MEMORY OF A SINGER 

Sweetly fall their words of praise, 
Their tribute due — yet all the while 
We're missing, through these lonely days. 
Her gracious way, her lovely smile. 

But yesterday she satisfied 

Our careless hearts with glorious song. 

Today we vainly cry "Abide 

Oh Beautiful and Pure and Strong!" 

"The world hath need of such as thou 
Who living, patient — without fear 
Could die — and dying, sing "Oh, Now 
I'm going Home! My God is here!" 

Your music gladdened all our days. 
You sang on, trusting to the End, 
And entered thus the Untrodden Ways, 
Oh true and noble friend ! 



When I had said unto my heart and you, 
"I am thy friend," I loved the thot so well, 
I could not think of words wherewith to tell 
Aloud my feeling to that inmost You, 
That flashes me unspoken greeting when 
Your honest eyes look up to mine. But then 
I know my own do give an answering sign 
For all my heart goes out to meet with thine ! 
58 



Scattered Mists 



ADVENTURE 

Two tiny maids were climbing 
The heights above the bay 

And mission-bells were chiming 
As they went on their way 
To see the End of Day. 

Quite bravely had they started 
From Mother-Dear at noon 

So gay and blithesome hearted 
With song and merry tune 
Across the fields of June. 

A wayward impulse caught them 
And bore them up the hill. 

There wild adventure sought them 
And pushed and tugged, until 
They reached the top, so still ! 

So still the world ! and fearsome, 
The clouds so near and white ! 

So wide the world ! and awesome. 
The winds that swept the height, 
Beneath a sun, too bright. 

So golden shone that western sun 

Across the Golden Gate 
That sky and sea and land were one 

In gorgeous regal state 

The daily End to wait! 
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Scattered Mists 



The tiny maids were staring. 

Their eyes grown big and round, 

At thought of so far faring 
On wild and alien ground 
With not a home-like sound ! 

And almost had they started 
To return the way they came 

When some Swift Swallow darted 
Across the golden flame 
Of sky and sea — the same ! 

He showed to them the fiowers 
That lined that golden shore 

Where poppy-petal showers 

Had spread the plain's wide floor 
Up to the mountain-door! 

He called them from the hill-top 
To flower fields below, 

He bade them all their tears stop 
And play where poppies grow 
And lovely breezes blow! 

And later when returning 
To Mother-Dear alone. 

Their hearts within were burning 
For Beauty that was shown 
Which was before unknown! 



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Scattered Mists 



"DIVINE FIRE" 

He walked the narrow streets with joyous mien, 
Thro' slimy wa^s, where Heav'n's sweet rain came 

down 
Polluted by the breath of smoky town 
And sweat of beasts and men. "What can be seen," 
All others cried — "the bricks and steel between, 
Of ever-living beauty? Truth's bright crown 
Hath slipped its place of honor and renown." 
And evermore they cried, "Life's mean!" 
These words he heard — he felt the dust and heat, 
He saw the pain of life, yet knew its joy. 
A sudden flash of sunset sky oft turned 
To flaming beauty, all that naked street, 
And he beheld ; nor recked their loud annoy. 
But smiled, for ev'n in them the glory burned ! 



6i 



Scattered Mists 



A DREAM 

Silver willows by a stream 
Sang and swayed as in a dream. 
Summer winds blew soft and low 
Where the waters silent flow. 
Thus they sang within my dream 
As they swayed beside the stream. 

"We, the fruit of lamentation, 
Robed for grief, with heads bowed down, 
Hear the weeping of all mortals, 
Weep with you, and pray for you." 



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Scattered Mists 



RESPONSE 

Hark, Comrades of my Soul, to the mountains call ! 
O'er the primrose path of the valle}^ it flo<Tts. 
Faintly bestirring the prickly poppy's bloom, 
Leaving the cottonwoods a-tremble in its wake. 
Tho yet so far away, my heart leaps in reply, 
As my eye and ear with such beauty are filled ; 
And the peace of their song falls softly unto me, 
From those rugged heights, by night-mist smoothed. 
Beneath the young moon, and the starry heaven's 

circle, 
I can but respond in their intimate manner. 
With a whispered word, and a long and rhythmic 

breath ! 



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Scattered Mists 



DEAR LAD 

Dear lad, with dark blue eyes, so dark, so bhie. 
That looking into them we often see 
With sudden sense of wakening surprise 
That life's sweet mystery is hid therein — 
Dear Lad, keep long thy look of kinship close 
To other worlds — and yet, oh yet, 
We wish so much for thee to know us wtll. 
Can'st thou become aware of this world, deat. 
And keep thy vision ? 



64 



Scattered Mists 



COMRADESHIP 

She looked into his eyes and smiled ; 
His hand clasped hers — and there 
Within the space of comprehending glance 
And grasp of hand, was born 
A friendship strong and sweet, 
That did outlast the years. 



65 



Scattered Mists 



LULLABY 

Baby, oh my baby, 
Come to me 
And rest thee! 

Tho I'm not thy mother, 
I do care for thee! 
And love thee! 

Tho I'm not thy father, 
I do work for thee. 
To clothe thee! 

It seemeth that I love thee 
Much as Mother would. 
It seemeth that I love thee 
More than Father could. 

Then come to me my baby, 
Come to me 
And rest thee! 



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Scattered Mists 



THE PRAYER OF A MIDDLE AGED 
LEADER 

Oh Mother Earth, my Mother Earth, 

Be good to me to-day. 

All these years I've come to you 

And you have never failed me. 

From days with you, in groves of pine, 

Forests of oak, by lake or sea. 

On wave-washed shore, in rocky cave, 

I have returned with strength renewed, 

And those who saw have wondered ; 

The bruised and beaten 

Have come to me. 

And I have helped to heal them. 

Even as they, these many years, 

Have come to me, 

Even so do I now come to thee, 

Great Mother of us all! 

Drained to the last drop 

Is my cup of understanding! 

Gone the healing firmness of my hands! 

Gone my high serenity of spirit ! 

Gone the poise I found in youth ! 

Now I falter. Mother Earth, 

And there is none to hold me 

I cry. Not one of all I've turned. 

To the way of life doth hear my voice. 

Upon a height they've placed me 

And I weary for the valley. 



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Scattered Mists 



Dear Mother Earth, is there not one 
Who understands such heart-ache? 
Who turning from the cup of joy 
I gave> will bring rne healing? 



68 



Scattered Mists 



TODAY— AT YOUR HOUSE 

The flying clouds of early spring 
Go racing toward the sun. 
The birds are everywhere, and sing 
For joy at coming home. 

They sing with melting gladness 
Around your Closed House-Door, 
They pour their music-madness 
Upon our hearts so sore. 

The new leaves in your garden 
Unfold their curling ends 
To catch this sudden flooding 
Of gifts the Giver sends. 

The grass lies green and golden 
Upon your sun-washed lawn. 
The paths are there — Oh come then ! 
How can it be you've gone? 

I'm standing at the door-way. 
You'll come. And soon I'll see 
Your face and hear you say 
How much of late you've missed me. 



69 



Scattered Mists 



DANTE 

thou, long tossed with tempest and afflicted, 
Whose ship of h'fe seemed wrecked how many a 

time ! 
Whose dauntless spirit rode above the storm 
In spite of enemies Florentine and others, 
Receive my tribute! 

Lonely-hearted Man, 
Thy words do burn us yet, to purify. 
In that stern search for peace, by day, by night. 
Through forests dark, o'er mountains steep, 
By rocky paths, uncheered by friendly word, 
Was born the Comedy Divine. 

The flesh 
Had drowned thee in the thought of thine own hurt, 
But Beatrice and sweet Virgilius led 
On that rough way. 

Thou art my guide, and I 
With thee have traversed the city of Dole, with thee 
Beheld the Blessed Maid, and more than all 
Have walked with thee the streets of Florence. 
Its delicate tower and wondrous dome, 
Its spendid women, impetuous men, 

1 see them all and understand thy love. 

Though oft thy voice had ris'n from black-robed 

throngs, 
(That eager then the market place did crowd,) 
Against injustice, they knew thee not. 
For them you pierced the politician's cloak of lies 
And showed the foul within. They banished thee! 
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Scattered Mists 



O Voice of Ages, wordless and dim, 

For this I would lift up to thee my thanks. 

That days of sorrow crushed thee not, 

Nor turned thy feet from seeking Truth, Eternal. 

A LAMENT FOR THE YOUNG EARL OF 

ESSEX 

Is't three days now since boom of cannon told 
To guilty queen and subjects, that his head 
Had fallen upon the block? "A traitor bold 
To peaceful England and our throne," she said, 
(Who loves the name of "Lily-handed queen.") 
Not thus can she and Burleigh hope to stay 
The murm 'rings of the people. They have seen 
His spirit bright the price of envy pay. 

And I, who sit in Essex House alone. 

In grief that his young life must needs depart 

As one whose deeds are evil, — I alone 

Remember that he feared not Death's swift dart 

Upon the field of battle ; nay, in sooth. 

He oft defied her! Lisbon's gates looked down 

On that eager face's challenge to her youth 

And found not one in that dark Southern town 



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Scattered Mists 



Who dared combat with him. Recall ye how 
Navarre's strong camp in admiration gave 
The name "English Achilles?" Alas, that now 
I hear him called a traitor! What doth save 
Me from despair? Outside my window here 
Slow-moving Thames doth lash itself, the spray 
Wind-driv'n, blows hard against my face. I fear 
The river's moaning and the sky's cold gray. 

Can I, a sad-eyed woman, old in pain, 
Can I be she who wandered with young Joy 
A-down old Penshurst's sweet rose-bordered lane? 
(Ah Rose of Love, — thee Death cannot destroy!) 
For there, one night, midsummer's dream came true, 
No more of Lyly's grotesque parley then! 
And no more sighs, with eyes downcast to sue 
Fate's answer, ere it came. Love's silence then ! 

To me the memories of past joy remain. 
To England's queen, for whom he gave a life 
Of buoyant service, — bitter the cup of pain 
And long the hours of night, and fierce the strife 
'Twixt pride and love, the woman and the queen ! 



12 



,„f'BRARy 



OF 



S,^GnEss 



015 



799 



